


A Broken Heart in This Home

by Lukas17



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lukas17/pseuds/Lukas17
Summary: It felt like Bucky was missing something. Like he'd forgotten his keys at home or there was a hole in his sock. But he couldn't go back and grab his keys. He couldn't darn this hole. It was a loss he'd have to figure out how to live with.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Kudos: 30
Collections: Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2019





	A Broken Heart in This Home

**Author's Note:**

> This work was done for the Marvel Reverse Big Bang based off the lovely art located here: https://www.instagram.com/p/B5rqOgVIgmu/?igshid=1rc78uacbdkal. You can find them on tumblr as Iladylittlefinger and on instagram as Lady Elena Baelish.

When Sam woke up in the mornings he didn’t really wake up. His eyes would crack open and he’d stare at the ceiling, but he wasn’t processing anything. In the first month or so of their cohabitation Bucky used to take advantage of this fact. He’d amuse himself with hanging weird things from their ceiling or seeing what gross thing he could get close to Sam’s face before he’d notice. After that first month the pranks lost their luster

So he got coffee and brought a cup in for Sam. He could rate Sam’s quality of sleep by how many cups he needed before he got out of bed. One was good, two wasn’t great, three and over was a near death experience.

“So I’m writing the eulogy for your funeral and I wanted to know if you would consider your Mariah Carey standee your true love.”

“You’re damn right she is.” Sam shifted. The coffee barely stayed in his hand. Hospital meals didn’t come with coffee. So Bucky had to spend nearly fifteen dollars on a grand total of four cups before Sam was able to speak.

“I shoulda known I didn’t stand a chance.”

“Ya shoulda.”

Hospitals were a very normal part of their relationship. So much so that Bucky had looked into purchasing a dual room for when they would inevitably both be sent through the hero blender, but no hospital would go for it. Thankfully this time Sam had one with a nice view of the ocean. Bucky couldn’t wait for their insurance to process that bill.

There wasn’t much of a ritual to Sam’s post discharge. Really it was kind of like Sam’s birthday. He got the chance to pick a restaurant to order from and Bucky tried to race them both home before the delivery guy got there.

In that evening it was Thai. A pile of garlic rice, one large thai tea, and grilled chicken and seafood. Bucky did not beat the man there so he tipped an extra five as thanks for waiting and they ate everything without even taking them out of the containers.

As nice as it was to be home, it didn’t last. It never lasted. Bucky didn’t even need to get a call. He was out grabbing some sandwiches, because their food budget was overinflated, and of course there was a robbery at a bank. And of course it ended up being much bigger than just that.

“I gotta go babe.” He said. It was a phrase that he always said when he left and he didn’t know when he’d come back. Sam was, predictably, unamused. But he said nothing. If Sam wasn’t available then Bucky had to go, and vice versa.

Bucky had mixed feelings about the whole situation. The future was his home. He couldn’t have gone back with Steve. It wasn’t an option. The Bucky of the nineteen-forties was gone. The Bucky of today could track down a syndicate operating all the way down in Poland. The Bucky of today had found someone.

He supposed Steve found someone too. And he had returning to her. Still hurt that he abandoned everything just to go to the past. Not only retire, but also not face the people he left behind.

His feelings on the subject were confusing. So he picked up a whole cake on his way home. He figured he deserved it.

On the stand near the front door there was a letter. Unopened. With his and Sam’s names on it. It wasn’t that heavy, so it hadn’t been stuffed with anything. He left it on the table and ignored it so he could enjoy his evening.

Sam had recovered as well as an unaugmented human could in a week. He was walking sometimes and had managed to avoid getting water in his leg cast. The house was mostly clean with the biggest mess the clothing corner where Sam kept missing the laundry basket. Boxers and shirts splattered with oil from cooking. He kind of missed the sight of it all.

“I ordered those vegan sandwiches.” Sam said.

“We just had sandwiches.”

“No we didn’t!”

“Yes we did.”

“Before you left.”

Bucky fell into the bed next to Sam. It creaked a bit as he got comfortable even as the rough cast brushed up against his leg and caught some of his leg hair.

“We should do keto.”

“We should not.”

If he were a betting man then he’d bet there was several baguette rappers in the trash at this moment. Steve was the same way. Carbs were an American staple after all.

He wondered if Steve was still like that. Or if he was on some special old person’s diet. Was he eating scrambled egg whites and spinach? He probably shouldn’t care, but he kind of did. Steve was old. Was someone taking care of him? He shouldn’t worry about it. Steve had always managed to get help even when he refused to ask.

Sam flipped the T.V onto some cop drama. Bucky blinked once and it went from midday to early evening just like that. It took a moment for him to wake up enough to realize that he’d fallen asleep and now he was groggy and he couldn’t feel his arm because he slept on it. It was one of those terrible naps that failed to get the job done. Made all the worse by the feeling of crumbs in the bed and his stomach growling.

“I’m ordering BBQ!” Sam yelled from the room over, “What do you want?”

“A lot!”

“Got it.”

After five minutes he stumbled out of the room and managed to make himself some black tea to chase off the feelings of exhaustion. Sam was watching the game on the living room tv as he waited for his food to arrive.

“Steve sent you a letter.”

“He sent us a letter... and I saw it.”

“I figured it was more for you.”

“Why would you assume that?”

Sam shrugged, “Dunno.”

Well he supposed that was all he was getting from Sam. He would’ve pried for more, but the TV was on and the food was coming. A fight would’ve only killed his appetite.

During the commercials he decided that if Steve had something to say then he could come to New York and say it to him. And if he knew Steve, which he couldn’t exactly say he did anymore, then Steve would do just that. He would focus on his ribs and root for the Raiders and refuse to think about it. As was his God given right.

His plan was to not leave home for at least three days. So when his phone rang he let it go to voice mail and promised to listen to it when he wasn’t preoccupied with nothing. Sam put on a movie when the game was over and settled in for the night. If they got hungry they’d order more food probably. Really they should expense that in. It was SHIELD’s fault they didn’t have the energy to cook a proper meal.

The movie was engaging, and entertaining. He honestly enjoyed it and he couldn’t wait to go onto the internet and find out why he was wrong. Maybe he’d do it before bed so he didn’t actually sleep. That sounded like a good idea. He’d spend the night up feeding the trolls and make sure Sam didn’t die. Honestly he wished they had twitter in the 1940s so he didn’t get bored staying up making sure Steve kept breathing.

“I’m going to bed.” Sam announced. He refused any help walking to their room, so Bucky watched him hobble only slightly on the way to their room. Bucky would have joined him, really he wanted to, but he didn’t. He stayed down and tried to engross himself in another movie. Another TV show. Something else. Because Bucky was his own worst enemy. If something bothered him, like those judgmental, anonymous trolls, then he didn’t sleep until he got the last word in.

But it was a losing battle. Bucky’s vices may be less lethal, but they were still vices. And he couldn’t stand loose ends. Perceived or otherwise. He passed by the door on the way to bed and rather than lay down to sleep he ended up back at the front door, with the letter in his hand. The handwriting didn’t necessarily remind him of Steve, it wasn’t as if they’d sent each other a whole lot of letters in their lives. The letter was a light blue and the stamp was some generic stamp he probably bought at the post office.

Ripping the letter open with a knife would have been cathartic. But he didn’t do that, mostly because his knife wasn’t nearby. So he tore it open and out came the letter. Written on regular printer paper, he almost expected stationary, and folded oddly so the entire thing fit into the small envelope. He unfolded the simple letter.

Bucky,

I’d like to start out by saying I’m sorry -

He folded the paper back in on itself. Not tonight. He decided. Tonight there was no words that could fix this. Maybe tomorrow.


End file.
